


Avec Moi?

by onlyganymede



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Daminette, F/M, Fashion Designer Adrien Agreste, MariBat, Model Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Paris Vogue, Wingman Adrien Agreste, photoshoot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29495655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyganymede/pseuds/onlyganymede
Summary: Marinette is excited for Adrien. His debut fashion line is about to be on the cover of Paris Vogue and she gets to attend the shoot! But Marinette might be more excited about the dreamy American model who is to wear Adrien's designs. . .
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	Avec Moi?

When Marinette Dupain-Cheng had first heard about the upcoming photoshoot for _Paris Vogue,_ she had been excited. She had been absolutely elated. Not only was her best friend in the entire world finally getting his much-anticipated magazine debut of his own fashion line in the shoot, but she would get to attend!

When her modeling agency had first forwarded on the email about the _Paris Vogue_ shoot details, and how the event would involve a more exclusive team than usual due to Gabriel Agreste’s careful control over his fashion empire, which extended to Adrien’s debuting fashion line, as that was ‘in-house’ for the moment, Marinette had practically squealed in delight when she was on the list of attendees.

Marinette had worked with Gabriel Agreste’s brand for as long as she had been modeling. A talent scout had happened by the street where her parents operated their little pâtisserie when she had been eleven years old, and the rest was history. It was no surprise to Gabriel or Nathalie that when Marinette started modeling exclusively for their brand that she had eventually gotten to know the brand heir, Adrien Agreste.

Adrien had had a lot to live up to under his father’s name, but luckily his passion for design and his quick eye for trends meant that his talent was very real, and extremely valuable in the fashion sphere. Gabriel had been worried about his son being pawned off to a lesser fashion house due to ineptitude, but Adrien had proved himself ten times over as being competent. More than competent. He was truly a star. Gabriel had known since Adrien’s first large-scale design competition that the designing genes not only ran in the family, but had evolved into something that would one day outstrip even him as the biggest name in European fashion, let alone the world.

Adrien was lucky also to have a great work ethic, and a supportive friend in Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who had always encouraged his efforts and offered to model some of his very first mock-up pieces. In return, he had talked her up to Gabriel as possessing a visionary type of poise. Adrien hadn’t even needed to exaggerate with that one. And not only was it true, Marinette carried herself in ways that no ordinary human being could, drawing attention to her movement and really communicating with artistic intent, but Gabriel seemed to think that he owed his son just about a million favors for possessing his unnaturally over-heaping amount of Agreste family fashion sense. Gabriel had signed Marinette Dupain-Cheng on an exclusive contract at age fifteen.

She would not have been surprised if Nathalie had dropped Gabriel a line about inviting her to the _Paris Vogue_ shoot, nor would she be surprised if Adrien had demanded it. Either way, Gabriel had ensured that she was on the high-profile list of attendees. And that wasn’t even the best part.

The dreamy East Coast American model Damian Wayne was slated to be the model in the shoot. Somehow, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was going to see one of the most attractive men on earth get shot for _Vogue,_ and with a front row seat handed to her by none other than Gabriel Agreste. Wearing Adrien’s designs.

After she had gotten over her initial phase of swooning and jumping up and down with predictable amounts of glee, she had ranted about it over the phone to Adrien.

Adrien had offered to drive her to the shoot, insisting that it would be no trouble.

And so here she was, freshly showered and awake, waiting at the edge of the street for his car. She had no idea which one of his fancy cars he would be driving today, but she’d know him by the music he was sure to be blasting from cracked open windows. She didn’t know anyone else with music taste quite like his.

When he did finally pull up in a gaudy yellow vehicle that was way too expensive for any ordinary poor twenty-something fashion designer, her hair had nearly finished drying.

“Sup,” he said, flashing her a winning smile paired with some swanky shades. “Nice plait.”

“Thanks.” She was glad to see him. “Are you nervous?”

“For Damian Wayne to wear my clothes? Not a bit. I’m nervous for you, who’s supposed to be modeling with him, also wearing my clothes.”

“Wait, what?” Marinette was sure she hadn’t missed anything when she had first read her email. Obviously she was either wrong, or Adrien was messing with her.

“Look, if you’re sure that’s what you want to be wearing when we go, then get in and we’ll leave. But I’m pretty sure your contract says you won’t wear skinny jeans or jeggings or whatever those are on shoot days.”

“Wait, you’re serious? Damian Wayne is being shot _with me_?” Marinette dug her flat key back out of her bag.

Adrien slid off his shades dramatically. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are modeling with Damian Wayne. Or he is modeling with you. Get over it. Go change, and we’ll pretend like I didn’t just witness you not knowing about your role today, okay?” He smiled devilishly at her. “And you can keep your hair in the plait! That’ll fit the vibe of the collection you’re showing off today.”

Marinette dashed back to her flat. In the safety of her own closet, she dug through her shoot-day appropriate loose dresses with one hand, and scrolled back through her emails with the other.

Sure enough, she had missed the fine print (well, not _real_ fine print, but still) that stated the details of her modeling job today. If this wasn’t going to constantly recur in conversation, despite what Adrien had said about ‘forgetting’ that she hadn’t known about her modeling gig, she would eat her Gabriel contract. Digital as it was.

In a pair of dressy black sliding sandals and a flowing white gown, her own pair of shades that matched Adrien’s (“because best friends do these kinds of things, Marinette!”), and her black bag, she was officially ready to go.

When she was seated in the passenger side of Adrien’s car, Marinette turned to face him with an exaggeratedly exhausted expression. “Did you know I didn’t realize that I was a part of this shoot when I ranted about it to you on the phone?”

Adrien put the car into drive and sped off. “Hmmm. Maybe.”

“Adrien!”

“Marinette!” He imitated her as he rounded a corner. “What are friends for?” He asked fondly.

Marinette just rolled her eyes at him from behind the sunglasses lenses.

“Besides,” Adrien added, “why do you think I offered to drive you today?”

Try as she might, Marinette couldn’t actually stay mad at him. It was fun to watch him speed through traffic at unlawful paces. And she was, after all, about to model alongside her favorite international model. She didn’t really have anything to complain about. She wouldn’t even be late despite not having known about her role today. Even without Adrien’s need for speed, he was notoriously punctual.

Once they were on location, Marinette was directed to a back changing room, where the shoot director met with her briefly and outlined which outfits where going in which order, and that he just wanted her to feel at ease. Marinette began to change once he left, and Adrien himself came in to fix her hair and makeup.

“See? What’d I tell you about wearing that dress?” He asked smugly.

“I know. You know my contract inside and out by now.”

“Too right,” he agreed, applying liberal blush across her nose and cheeks. “Let’s see your nails.”

She splayed her fingers for him to review.

“Excellent!” Adrien looked around his deep makeup bag before finding some eyelash primer. “Now I’m not sure if you knew this, but I actually worked with the creative director for this shoot on the concept, since it’s my clothing debut. Please look up. Good, you’re a pro Marinette.”

“Shut up, Adrien. I’ve done this for years.”

“That’s why I said you were a pro!” Adrien whipped out navy mascara, and began applying with abandon. “Anyways. I really wanted my clothes to be reflected in the best possible way, as much as a feature as you and Damian, the eye candy,” he waggled his brows at her, “will be.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Adrien smudged some extra faint blue eye shadow over her creases, and stepped back off his stool to admire his work.

He nodded to himself, dusting off his hands, and muttering under his breath about how he hoped Damian Wayne would be just as easy to work with.

“You spoil me Marinette, truly. Not just as a friend. As an artist, I am honored to work with you.” He gave her his cheesiest grin as he walked away, presumably to wherever Damian Wayne was hanging out.

Marinette felt ethereal in Adrien’s designs. Gabriel and Nathalie should fear for their joint fashion empire. Adrien Agreste was about to take the world by storm.

When she stepped out of her little temporary dressing room, the shoot director was visibly wowed. Marinette would be lying if she said she didn’t feel absolutely powerful. Let that feeling corrupt her. She enjoyed it. She always got a rush out of shoot day, even if it was a day like today, where the shoot was unexpected.

The director walked around her with his assistant, and they began arranging her voluptuous sleeves, rubbing the delicate fabric gently between their fingers.

Marinette held her head high, waiting for more clear directions that would come after the director and his assistant had really contacted every part of Adrien’s design as it sat on her person.

Luckily, even staying still, she was in the perfect place to watch one Damian Wayne enter the room. He looked amazing. He was in conversation with Adrien Agreste, who looked short next to this man. And Adrien was taller than she was! It was one thing to read another model’s measurements on paper, and a whole other thing to experience it in real life for yourself.

Marinette was in awe, but kept her gaze at a cool appraisal. Adrien noticed where that gaze of hers was drawn, and smirked over at her. Then Damian tracked his line of vision, and met her eyes.

Marinette almost lost her cool. Was it weird to say she felt something? A spark? Or was it just the embarrassment of her best friend totally catching her crushing? She wasn’t sure, but she surely wasn’t going to stop her professionalism just because she was finally in the same room as her celebrity crush.

The director and his assistant noticed Damian’s presence too, and wheeled around to fawn over him instead.

Only a few yards away from her now, Marinette could see that he had some soft pink highlights on his features. No doubt the result of Adrien’s deft hand. She wholeheartedly approved of that makeup decision.

As Damian briefly had a look of horror cross his face at the way the director obsessed over the way Adrien’s designs draped over his frame, he once again locked eyes with Marinette. She shrugged and smiled at him. He gave a soft, barely there smile in return. No one could escape that director’s admiring eye, it seemed.

Adrien helpfully sidled up to Marinette and said, “I get the feeling that he is just as excited about this opportunity as you are.”

“What?” She breathed.

“You know you have also very likely been on his radar, right? You’re a successful model too, Marinette. Best act like it if you want to snag this one as badly as I think you do.”

Marinette’s eyes flickered over to Adrien’s, which were trained on the slow progress of the director.

She chose then to ignore his comments. “Does it flatter you to see our director so…”

“What? Enamored with my clothes? Yeah, it does. A real ego boost to this struggling designer.” Adrien folded his arms in glee.

“Ha ha. I didn’t say you were struggling, stupid.”

“I know. But it is nice. Not only did he agree to my suggestions for the shoot, but I have some proof of value in the way he likes them all in person, on people. You and Mr. Wayne over there wear my stuff really, really well. It’s nice to know that I’m admired beyond my connection to my dad.” Adrien looked wistful.

Marinette placed her hand on his bicep. “Of course you’re admired beyond him! You are far more talented!”

“I’m glad you think so.” The director and his assistant walked away from Damian, who still seemed composed, and Adrien turned to leave the main shoot area as well. “It’s good that you think I’m talented, because if this shoot goes well today, you might expect a repeat of this partnership.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide. “What?”

But Adrien had already walked away, smiling.

The shoot went extremely well. Marinette posed in a power stance in front and to the side of a seated Damian Wayne, who leaned in on an elbow toward the camera.

They posed together with Marinette on a stool to gain some height on Damian, whose body was faced toward hers, but his face was glancing at the photographer.

Marinette rested her head on his shoulder, and gripped his jaw in her hand as they looked poised.

Another shot showed them holding hands and leaning away from each other, arms outstretched.

Another saw them reclined, Marinette seated and Damian lying across her lap, head propped up again on one elbow.

A myriad of shots showing them close, but in unconventional poses served to highlight Adrien’s design brilliance with its muted colors, billowing features, and otherworldly glamour.

The lighting in the studio itself had been carefully curated, but the final digital edits would be fast-tracked to be finished within the week. Marinette, Adrien, and Damian as well as anyone else involved in the process would get to see the final product before it was published in _Paris Vogue._

Adrien provided specialty makeup remover wipes if Damian or Marinette so desired to use them.

He tried to subtly use his head to indicate to Marinette to make a move.

Marinette and Damian, so comfortable in and out of each others’ arms during the shoot were dancing around a quiet flirtation as far as Adrien was concerned. And he couldn’t have that. Not for his best friend. Not if his life depended on it. This day shouldn’t just end in a success for his career. He wanted to be able to tease Marinette about a hot American model boyfriend for the rest of their lives.

Marinette sighed, and mentally dragged her feet through the mire of wanting to flirt but not knowing how forward she should be.

“It was great to finally work with you,” Damian said politely.

Adrien gave Marinette an ‘I told you so’ look, which she pointedly ignored.

“You too.” _Now or never, Marinette. Now or Never._ “Do you want me to help you remove that mascara? The brands Adrien uses are really a beast to take off.” _Oh god oh god oh god—_

Damian looked surprised, then said, “That would be much appreciated. I’ve never worked with him before, so I didn’t know.”

Marinette took a deep breath, before grabbing another specialty makeup wipe from an extremely delighted Adrien. Having snatched it away from him, she approached Damian slowly, nervous about getting in his personal space.

“Would you like me to sit down? Or is this okay?” He asked. He was rather tall after all.

“This is fine,” Marinette replied softly.

She reached up to his face, his eyelashes fluttered close, and she gently placed her hand through the wipe on his lash line. Her thumb could feel the movement of his eye beneath his eyelid. She swallowed, then pressed down on the mascara, and gently slid the cloth away. Streaks of dark magenta stretched downward from his lashes. His eyes briefly opened, long enough to make eye contact with her again, and he gave her an encouraging smile.

Marinette steeled herself against looking at whatever Adrien was doing, or miming at her. No doubt he would be all thumbs up and cheeky grins.

Marinette carefully ghosted along Damian’s jaw with her other hand to hold his face in place. Just in case, even though he was still as a statue. She wiped along the streaks of mascara cascading from his lash line, and gently pressed against his lashes again, softening the trace amounts of makeup left there before swiping that away too.

She stepped back to look at her handiwork, and quickly retrieved another specialty makeup wipe, still refusing to properly glance at Adrien.

Damian saw what she had stepped away to do, and reached up one hand to his now clean eye. No trace of the beast of Adrien’s choice mascara remained.

“Thank you,” he said in his low voice as Marinette began to work on his other eye.

“It’s no problem,” she breathed, bracing his face against her makeup removing ministrations once more, this time with the opposite hand more firmly pressed across his jaw and neck, fingers practically in his hair.

She might have been imagining things still, but she thought he pressed his face just a little bit into the palm of her supportive hand.

Marinette withdrew the wiping cloth from his other eye. “All finished. You’re mascara free now!” Marinette smiled at him as he opened his eyes and blinked to clear away blurry vision.

“Thank you,” he repeated. His eyes searched hers. “Do you want help with yours, too?”

Marinette blushed, even though her expertly applied makeup already gave her that look in spades. Elegant spades, but spades nonetheless.

Across the room, Adrien’s loud business voice carried. “Thank you so much for being a part of the shoot today, everyone! I have some donuts and other assorted breakfast goodies in the foyer, if you’d like to follow me.” He beckoned most people out of the room, and looked fondly over at Marinette and Damian.

“Shouldn’t we invite the other stars of the show?” The lead photographer, an Italian man named Vincent, asked courteously.

“Ah. They’re models. Who knows if they’re willing to eat the sorts of carbohydrates I can bring to the table?” Adrien said, laughing.

He and Vincent left, almost closing the door behind them on the two lone models.

Damian smiled as he worked away at the mascara Marinette wore for the shoot. She was smiling too, as though they were sharing a reaction to Adrien’s jest even though her eyes were closed to see his expression. He was on a stool, the same one used in the shoot to give Marinette height earlier, and she was seated in a chair in front of him. The package of wipes had been carefully laid on the floor next to his perch.

“You were right about this mascara being stubborn. I think I’m having worse luck with yours than you did with mine,” Damian said.

Marinette’s smile grew softer, if that were possible. “Is that so? I did have to work pretty hard on yours.”

“But surely you have more experience with it, being familiar with him?”

“I suppose.”

Damian gently nudged her jaw to turn to the side a little bit so that he could more easily access her other eye. He brought out a new makeup wipe, just as Marinette had done for him, and swiped in slow motions with his thumb across this other lash line. One final stroke, and then—

“All done,” Damian said, and he gathered his used makeup wipes and threw them away.

Marinette slowly rose to her feet, and thanked him.

“I was simply returned a favor. The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Are you going to go and eat?” Marinette asked, gathering up her bag so she could go change out of the clothes from Adrien’s new line.

“If he doesn’t think I’m too much of a model for his buffet,” Damian said with mirth in his eyes.

“Of course,” Marinette laughed.

Damian smiled at that sound. “In all honesty, I could go for something savory.”

Marinette paused in front of her makeshift dressing room door, turning to look back at Damian Wayne properly. “Adrien’s not really the type to bring savory stuff to an event like this. But,” she looked at him curiously and mustered up her courage, “if you’d like to go out with me to get some real food after I’m changed back?”

Damian’s face looked like the sun had burst through. The sun was shining and Marinette wanted to soak in its rays. How glorious. How enlightening.

“I would love to.”

“It’s a date,” she said happily.

“It’s a date,” Damian agreed with fervor.


End file.
